


Don't Hold Your Breath

by Asher_Ephraim



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Porn, Bachelor Auction, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, M/M, Office Sex, Poor Dopheld Mitaka, Power Imbalance, Recreational Drug Use, Spanking, Stimulants, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:49:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25393387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asher_Ephraim/pseuds/Asher_Ephraim
Summary: General Hux places the winning bid on an evening with Mitaka. It's just the opportunity the lieutenant has been hoping for.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Dopheld Mitaka
Comments: 11
Kudos: 29
Collections: Dopheld Mitaka Christmas In July 2020





	Don't Hold Your Breath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NickDragonRise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NickDragonRise/gifts).



The senior officers’ lounge on the _Finalizer_ has been reserved for the annual Families of the Order Gala. Although the party starts as a standard booze-up, the main event begins at 2200 with the singles’ auction. This year twenty bachelors and bachelorettes have signed up. Technically any unpartnered service member can put themselves up for auction, but there’s an unspoken rule that it’s an activity for junior officers and non-combatants. Participation is voluntary, but it’s understood that joining in is a indication of team spirit, ambition, and most of all, generosity. After all, the proceeds from the evening go to the surviving families of fallen soldiers and sailors.

This is Mitaka’s third time on the auction block. He’s signed up every year since his assignment to the _Finalizer_. He’s had a few drinks during the course of the party tonight, hanging out backstage with the other volunteers. He knows the main lounge with its impeccably starched tablecloths and top-shelf liquors isn’t where he belongs. After all, he isn’t a senior officer. Not yet.

**. . .**

“How’d you fare last year?” Opan asks Peavey.

The captain frowns deeply into his highball glass. “Not great,” he admits sullenly.

Leaning in conspiratorially, Opan presses the subject. “You had that lieutenant, right? Unamo?”

“‘Had’ is hardly the right word for receiving a half-hearted handjob,” Peavey sulks. “How did your date pan out?”

Opan can’t hold back his triumphant grin. “Quite well indeed.”

“Blowjob, then?”

He nods. “Started that way. He ended up letting me fuck him.”

“Seriously?”

“Entirely, yes. Bare, too.”

“For fuck's sake, Tritt.”

“On that note, I suggest you consider wagering on one of the young men. I know you’re not gay, but… well. They tend to be starved for attention and not too particular. That’s certainly the case with Mitaka.”

Hux listens to Opan and Peavey’s conversation from the next table over. He doesn’t usually participate in these events. Often he doesn’t even attend. But he’s been so overworked lately that he’s barely had time to wank regularly, and he’s in something of a state. He requires a warm body to… assist. It’s just stress relief, anyway. And for a good cause.

Mitaka may be just the outlet he needs.

“Up next: Dopheld Mitaka. A commissioned lieutenant, Dopheld is twenty-three standard years old, one point eight metres in height, and weighs seventy kilograms. Bidding is open to male senior officers, starting at fifty credits. Bids to be placed in twenty-five credit increments. Bidding opens now.”

Opan raises his hand. The auctioneer nods at him and announces, “Fifty credits from Captain Tritt Opan.”

Peavey leans toward Hux. “Mitaka went home with Opan last year. Apparently our lieutenant took it bare.”

Hux raises an eyebrow as though this is the first he’s heard of it. “Is that so?”

Opan nods conspiratorially. “He was terribly thirsty for it.”

“Hmm,” Hux hums. “That _is_ tempting.”

“Go on,” Peavey encourages the general. “Give Opan some competition.”

“One hundred credits,” Hux announces before turning to Opan to inquire, “Did he blow you at all?”

“Yes.” Raising his voice and his hand, he shouts, “One hundred fifty!”

“And how was that?”

“Phenomenal.”

“Two hundred!” Hux declares, his voice turning heads throughout the room. Let them talk.

**. . .**

As he listens to the auctioneer introduce him, Mitaka is more or less resigned to another night with Opan, which is fine. It wasn’t the worst hook-up of his life: the captain had been more or less respectful and the sex itself was decent.

(Yes, he knows he isn’t required to engage in sexual activity with the winning bidder. Officially, their time together is a “amicable ‘date’ between colleagues”, but there are expectations and he can read between the lines.)

Opan does, in fact, place the first bid and the speed with which he does so suggests a rather keen interest to repeat last year’s events. Mitaka has to admit he’s flattered. He knows he isn’t half bad in bed.

But then from the back of the room, Hux is raising his hand and joining in. Mitaka can hardly see the man, but he keeps his attention fixed on the general’s location.

Of all the outcomes Mitaka might have imagined for tonight, a bidding war was not among them.

**. . .**

“Come right in, Lieutenant,” Hux says, waving Mitaka into the living room of his quarters.

He wants to ask Hux to use his given name, but he won’t. He’ll hold his tongue and imagine the general calling him _Dopheld_ instead of _lieutenant._ “Thank you, sir,” he manages to say.

Meanwhile, he attempts to keep himself from staring too overtly at Hux’s lodgings. Of course a top general would have nice quarters. It’s just that Mitaka has never been invited home by a commanding officer. (Opan isn’t in his direct chain of command and therefore doesn’t count.)

“I’d like to fuck you tonight,” Hux announces as he hangs his cap on a hook in the entryway. “If you’re amenable.” His tone is the same one he uses in meetings: clipped, official, cold.

But Mitaka nods. It’s not just that he’s horny—although he is. It’s that he's imagined this for so long that he wouldn’t dare let the opportunity slip past him. It doesn’t have to match his fantasies: it’s more than enough that it be real.

“I have condoms,” Hux is saying, holding his hand out to take the lieutenant’s own cap. “But I’d prefer—”

“Yes, of course,” Mitaka cuts in. “Bare is fine.” He doesn’t want to risk fucking this up, is willing to compromise on just about anything to get and stay in Hux’s good graces.

“Good,” Hux declares, hanging Mitaka’s cap beside his own before turning back to him. “After all, I know you let Opan forgo a barrier.”

Yes, that’s true. He frowns briefly, not wanting to recall that night. Not with Hux in front of him. Mitaka wants to focus on the present and the possible future.

“Don’t worry, Mitaka. I’m not judging you. It’s your body and if you wish to spread your legs for every officer your senior, that’s your choice.”

He wants to argue that he isn’t in the habit of taking it up the arse from everyone who outranks him here, that Opan and three others hardly makes him the ship’s rentboy, when Hux continues. 

“I don’t mind that you’re a slut. Not as long as you put out for me. After all, I spent good money on you tonight. I like to think that affords me a measure of leeway.”

“Yes, sir.” Four hundred credits is a great deal of money, after all.

“Now, if you don’t mind following me to the bedroom…”

“Of course, General.”

Once in the bedroom, Mitaka kneels on the rug in the centre and looks up.

“Would you like me to blow you first, sir?” he asks. His knees are well cushioned by the plush fabric beneath him. It’s a nice rug, exquisitely patterned, likely handmade, and certainly expensive. Mitaka is used to spartan living spaces and he briefly wonders if it’s okay for him to be sitting here. But Hux doesn’t seem to mind. After all, the general is standing on the same rug with his boots still on.

“Yes.”

He lifts a hand up to undo Hux’s buckle and his fly, opens his jodhpurs, and reaches inside his briefs. Pulling out Hux’s cock, Mitaka studies it for a moment. The man is just starting to harden, but he’s sizable. Not unduly large, but—

“Go on, Lieutenant. You needn’t wait for a direct order.”

And so, he opens his lips and leans in.

Hux remains quiet and still until Mitaka has hit his stride.

“Yes, that’s right,” the general purrs from above. “I see why Opan was hoping to get you alone again.”

Mitaka chuckles, although the laugh manifests as a splutter.

“Just a bit more, then you’ll need to slip out of that uniform.”

He nods and the head of Hux’s cock juts against the roof of his mouth.

**. . .**

“How would you like it, sir?” he asks as he stands from the floor, glancing down and noting the divots his knees left on the rug. Hopefully that’s just temporary.

“All fours. I’ll have you from behind.”

As Mitaka positions himself the bed on his elbows and knees, Hux unfastens the buckle of his belt, the clasps of his tunic. Mitaka coaches himself to appreciate this moment and those that will follow. He only has one chance at making a good impression. Although, if he performs well enough, if he gives Hux enough pleasure, perhaps this might grow into something more. Something regular. And possibly something meaningful.

He feels his heart-beat in his throat and has to swallow to regain composure. Still, he jumps slightly when Hux lays a bare hand on the small of his back.

“At ease, Lieutenant,” Hux orders quietly, sounding like he’s smiling.

“Sorry, sir.”

“No need to apologise.” The mattress dips when the general joins him on the bed. “Now, just spread your legs a bit more and—yes, good. How much preparation do you need?”

He shakes his head. “Just some lube, sir. Then I’ll be good to go.” He can take it, especially with the few drinks in him. He’ll be fine.

“Good. Maker knows I’m hard enough already.”

The sound of a bottle cap snapping open, application of lubricant to Hux’s cock. A dab around Mitaka’s hole, a brief insertion of a fingertip up to the first knuckle.

He takes a deep breath as Hux lines up, thinking, _Here we go. This is it, what you_ _’ve dreamed about for ages._

Hux buries his cock quickly, in one smooth motion. Mitaka grasps for the corners of the pillow and shudders.

“Too much, Mitaka?”

“N-no, sir.” He should have asked for minimal fingering, at least. But he didn’t want to make Hux wait.

“I’ll give you a moment.”

“Thank you, sir.” He’s grateful for the respite; it’s apparent that Hux is eager to fuck.

The general takes the time to rub Mitaka’s cheeks with both hands. “Cute little arse on you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Tight hole, too. I wasn’t expecting that, considering the gossip.”

Once again, Mitaka bites his tongue. A few nights here and there don’t make him a whore. Even if it’s rarely with the same man.

“Are you ready, Lieutenant?” Hux asks, his voice a touch hoarse.

“Yes, sir.”

Hux grips Mitaka’s hair and pulls his head back, bending his spine into a bow. “There,” he whispers as he pushes forward. Finding a solid rhythm, he murmurs into Mitaka’s ear, “Good boy. Hell, I could see repeating this. Would you like that, Lieutenant?”

Without a moment’s pause, Mitaka answers, “Please, sir! Any time!” Of course he would. This is Hux, after all. Mitaka doesn’t think he could say no to the man, even if it was something he didn’t already want.

Hux lets out a laugh. “Good. I’ll take you up on that offer. As for tonight, I hope you don’t have any misgivings about me finishing inside you?”

Mitaka shakes his head as best he can. “No, sir. None at all.”

“Perfect.” He lands a palm against the meat of Mitaka’s left cheek. “Bloody _perfect_. Now, beg for me.”

Panting hoarsely, Mitaka moans, “Please, sir. Please fucking come in me, fill me up, I want it!” His words are punctuated with intermittent slaps to his arse. The sting drives him further into desperation. “I want it all, every fucking drop, sir, please—I need it—”

“Fuck, Mitaka. Take this load like a good little whore and I’m sure I’ll find further use for you.”

“Use me, sir!” Mitaka demands—something he’s never said—as Hux grinds ever deeper before letting out a long, guttural moan.

Hux gives him a few more thrusts, then pats Mitaka’s arse and pulls out. “Yes,” he concludes, reaching for the pack of cigarras on his nightstand. “I’ll certainly be keeping you around.”

**. . .**

“Sir, you asked for me?” Lieutenant Mitaka inquires from the door-frame of Hux’s private office.

“Yes, Lieutenant. Come over here, please.”

Mitaka steps around the desk. Hux’s hand slips around to squeeze one of his ass-cheeks. He jumps slightly.

“At ease, Mitaka. I’m just hoping—”

He nods in understanding. Of course.

“Good. Drop your trousers and bend over the desk, then.”

“Oh, you want to—”

“Fuck you, yes. We have twenty minutes before this meeting, and I figured that’s plenty of time to bang one out here.”

Ten minutes into the fuck, Hux hasn’t yet come and Mitaka realises he won’t have time to clean up before the meeting.

“Um, sir?” he asks timidly.

“Yes?”

“Shouldn’t we… uh, finish? Soon? To make it to the session in time?”

Hux lets out a huff of annoyance. “No, you’re right. We should.”

“Is there something I can do to help?”

“Well. I suppose you could let me manhandle you a bit.”

Mitaka raises his eyebrows. He’s already being bent over a desk and Hux is hardly being gentle with him. “How so?”

“Let me spank you.”

“Oh. Alright, sir.”

Hux pins Mitaka’s hands at the small of his back with one hand and smacks his arse cheeks with the other. With his wrists restrained, Mitaka has no chance to get off. So, he sighs onto the desk and resigns himself to letting Hux do whatever he wants.

Fifteen minutes into the session, a notification bar appears at the top of Mitaka’s tablet screen.

_Gen Hux: Are you leaking yet?_

_[Lt Mitaka is typing]_

_Lt Mitaka: Yes, sir._

_Gen Hux: Getting your panties all wet from me?_

He flushes and takes a quick sip of water from his canteen in an attempt to cool down. He’s still aroused from before, since he wasn’t able to wank.

Hux sneaks a sidelong look at him, and he nods.

_Gen Hux: Swing by my office afterward and I’ll finger your sloppy hole until you come._

Once again in Hux’s office, this time Mitaka is lying on his back across the desk, his ankles resting on Hux’s shoulders and his trousers in a heap on the floor.

Hux is speaking in a confidential undertone. “Watching you sitting there with my spunk dribbling out of you, looking perfectly proper but I could tell. I knew you were overflowing with my—oh, fuck, Mitaka. You’re such a good little come-bucket.”

He nods. It’s all he can do. That and listen to Hux’s fingers pump through the filth inside him while the general’s other hand works Mitaka’s cock.

“I know what you are, you dirty little bitch. I’m going to keep playing with you like this. Every. Fucking. Day.” He licks his lips, leans in, and peers into Mitaka’s eyes. “Are you close yet?”

Another nod.

“Think you can take another? Just my little finger?”

“M-maybe, sir.”

“Let’s find out.”

His legs tremble at the almost-unbearable stretch.

“Take it, soldier. Take it like the pathetic fucking whore you are.”

He gasps, shudders, and comes all over his tunic.

Hux withdraws his hand with a squelch and holds his fingers up to Mitaka’s lips. “Good. Now clean them off.”

**. . .**

“I’m growing quite comfortable with you, Lieutenant.”

Mitaka’s hopes kick into overdrive. Perhaps the general will ask him out to dinner. Or take him for drinks in the officers’ lounge, where they could sip expensive brandy and stare out at the stars.

“Might I inquire about your stance on the use of stimulants?”

“I haven’t used them myself, sir. Not outside of training, that is.” At Arkanis there had been a month during which students had been administered a series of substances and tested on their ability to function while impaired. “But I can see their utility.”

“Hmm. Good. Because I sometimes employ them.”

“I’m not offended.”

Two nights later, Hux injects the contents of a pen syringe into his thigh as Mitaka stands beside him. Does that imply trust, or does he simply not consider Dopheld a threat? It isn’t like there’s anyone he could reasonably report the general’s activities to, should he want to.

Hux is different on stimulants. There’s a fierceness in his eyes and his tone becomes even more detached. But it raises his body temperature, which means he removes his gloves and in fact his entire uniform. Dopheld cherishes the skin-to-skin contact that ensues. It makes it easier to pretend that they’re dating.

He lies face-down on the mattress, wishing Hux were fucking him face-to-face. But it minimises the temptation to kiss the general, and it gives him the opportunity to mouth “Armitage” into the pillow.

“Hell, Mitaka. Fucking you is even more enjoyable like this.”

He lets out a quiet sigh.

“I’m about there. Are you ready for it?”

He nods. “Yes, sir,” he mumbles. “Armitage,” he adds silently as he comes into his hand.

“Fuck,” Hux groans, right in Mitaka’s ear. He grinds through his orgasm, then gives the lieutenant’s flank a slap. There are bruises in various stages of healing adorning Mitaka’s arse and thighs. Hux makes new ones as the old marks fade. “I’m still hard,” he marvels. “I think I can keep going.”

“Maker,” Mitaka whispers hoarsely. He’s already been fucked stupid.

“Want me to?” Hux asks, a devious lilt to his voice. “Want to find out if I can come twice in a row?”

“Anything you want, sir,” he answers. For all its simplicity, “no” is such a complicated word to say.

“Good boy. I used to be able to do this, when I was younger. If my partner was a good enough fuck, that is.”

He’s more voluble the second time around, panting over Mitaka’s mostly motionless form.

“Take it, Lieutenant. Take it like I paid for it. You’d have made a good whore, you know. So pretty, so pliant.”

Mitaka listens distantly to Hux’s rambling talk, only vaguely offended. When Hux finally comes again, Mitaka’s lips form the shapes of _I love you._ Tonight he’s too tired to keep the words fully inside.

**. . .**

“Are you satisfied with our arrangement?” Hux asks abruptly when Dopheld is reaching for his belt from the floor. The general’s come is just beginning to leak out of him, but the lieutenant knows it’s time to leave when Hux has finished his cigarra.

“Am I satisfied, sir?” he repeats clumsily.

“I do hope our time together is mutually enjoyable.”

He doesn’t know how to answer. After all, he always gets off. Sex with the general is undeniably fantastic. So perhaps he should share that, at least. “This is the best sex of my life, sir.” He finally looks up from the belt in his hands.

Hux's smile is rather distant. “I’m glad to hear that. But I have the sense there’s something I’m not providing.”

“No. Not at all, sir. I’m grateful that you chose to continue our… liaison past the first evening.” All the way back to his room, though, he berates himself for his cowardice. It’s shameful. But he’s afraid that the strength of his needs would push Hux away. It’s best to keep things as they are, rather than risk losing that.

Things continue but they do not change much. Hux still doesn’t invite Mitaka to linger after their sessions have concluded, just smokes his cigarra and civilly dismisses the lieutenant. He does not inquire about Mitaka’s day or his past or his thoughts. It becomes another routine. Run diagnostics, attend meetings, send reports. Take a load from the general. Rinse and repeat. 

He senses no trace of attachment from Hux, only a growing familiarity. Which is something, he tells himself. But it isn’t much of a comfort, not when he wants to share dinner, engage in long, meandering conversations, and wake up together. It isn’t fair of him to expect that sort of thing to develop, not when this started with Hux purchasing his time.

Still, he hopes that Hux simply takes longer than most when it comes to these sorts of things.

Dopheld chokes back his personal questions, bites his tongue whenever he’s tempted to ask, “Do you even like me?” and stills his hand every time he wants to reach out. He waits.

The waiting may never stop.


End file.
